Hold Me Until I Don't Hurt
by writerkenna
Summary: The Battle of Hogwarts scarred Neville, physically and otherwise. Recovery is slow, painful, and not something he's ready to take on. He needs someone to talk to, someone who won't judge, someone who will actually just listen for once. Luna fits the bill.


July heat in Devon County, Neville was fairly sure, was the worst in England.

The sun was beating down hard on the green patch of hills and yard behind the Burrow. The half of Neville's leg that wasn't covered by his rolled up trousers was stinging with the starts of a sun burn and he quickly ducked under the bit of roof that stuck out over the yard.

He watched Ron run across the grass with one of Hermione's books, saying something about how it's much too summery to have her nose buried in a 500 year old text. Hermione's brow crinkled as she chased him, shooting back that Ron is an absolute idiot.

"You alright?" Ginny asked, pulling her broom out the back door with her. Neville smiled. A quidditch game would be refreshing to watch.

"Yeah. Sun's a bit much, is all."

"Don't I know it," Ginny pointed to a string of freckles on her nose, "Will you play?" Neville gulped at the idea of sports.

"Ah, no. I'd just make an arse of myself." Ginny gave him a polite laugh and patted his shoulder as she trotted off to get a game going. Harry pushed up from the grass as soon as she had so much as looked his way, nearly tripping over his feet in his eagerness. Ron sped over to get in on the game, letting Hermione's book fall from his hands. Hermione was quick to catch it and search for her place with the ferocity of a buzzing bee. Ron grabbed his broom from the side of the house and the game kicked off.

This had been their tradition for the past few weeks. They met at the Burrow every Friday, Neville, Luna, Ginny, Harry, Ron and Hermione, and tried to keep Hogwarts, the way it used to be, alive in some way. George would leave his room and participate here and there, looking like a Dementor sucked him dry, Angelina always in tow. Hermione and Ginny had pushed for the Friday's hard, but everyone knew they needed them. After the battle, with everyone they had lost, it felt better when they were with each other. Lessened the stench of death that hung after Voldemort's defeat, especially around them, considering they all nearly led the war. Neville was just happy to have friends and plans outside sitting on his bed, staring at the ceiling, and trying to decipher the last year of his life.

Molly came out to the yard half way through the game with a pitcher of lemonade. She came to Neville first, probably since he was alone and pressed against the wall, instead of swirled up in the action.

"Want some, love?" Molly asked, but she had already flicked her wand at the pitcher and it was pouring a glass for him. He nodded nonetheless.

"How's your Gran?"

"Ah, um, good, I guess. Think she likes having me around to do the tidying," Neville mumbled. Molly chuckled. He caught the glass that was floating at him, and in taking a sip, found that Molly's lemonade actually did help the insufferable sun, a little.

"This is healing up a bit, hm?" Molly's hand came in contact with Neville's forehead to graze a thumb over his scar that stretched from his hair line to his temple, and a wince of long gone but not forgotten pain hit him. Molly sucked in her lip, brow furrowing, "Oh my, sorry."

"Um, it's healing up, yeah," Neville said. There was a tense silence, both too much for them to speak about. Molly softened first, sighing into a smile.

"I'm sure it will be almost gone by the end of summer," Molly said, rubbing her hand on his cheek. Molly had sort of started to feel like a mum to Neville, to all of them he was sure, and he was beyond grateful for her.

"Yeah." He smiled back to her sheepishly. Molly brought the pitcher back to her grasp and moved through the yard.

"Luna, dear, lemonade?" she yelled over the noise of the game, "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Ginny, don't yell like that!"

"I'd love some Mrs. Weasley. Thank you," Luna said. She was off from the game, as well, and had wandered off to the Weasley's fruit trees in their garden, fingertips gliding across an apple. Molly set a glass her way.

"Your trees are quiet lovely this summer. Their auras are beaming," Luna hummed in Molly's direction. Neville stifled a laugh as Molly's face screwed up at the comment. Neville didn't exactly understand what Luna had meant either, but her ramblings had become more endearing lately. Maybe it was his prolonged exposure.

"Ah, yes. Certainly. Very . . . bright auras," Molly said, before turning back to the game, "Lemonade, anyone?"

The game paused for refreshments, but not without Ron shouting that Ginny was a cheating arse. Luna crossed to where Neville sat, and Neville straightened up.

"Good game?" Luna said. Her voice was lofty as always. She settled herself criss cross on the lawn chair next to Neville. Her dress was spaghetti strapped and Neville could see the backs of her boney shoulders peaking out from her almost inconceivably long hair. This paired with her radish looking earrings and floral print flouncy sundress made Neville think she looked like a nymph ran away from the forest.

"Mostly. Though, I dunno if they're really playing a game. It's more just Harry and Gin teaming up against Ron," he said. Luna released a hum and leaned back onto her chair. Neville found himself briefly caught up in looking a her hair. Her chair was close enough that stray strands of platinum clung to his shoulder. It smelled like fruits he didn't know, probably something with an exotic name from a far off forest full of creatures she wrote of in the Quibbler. He shook himself out of it and tried to focus on the game.

"Ginny's very talented, isn't she?" Luna said, and Neville mumbled a 'yep'. Luna turned back to him abruptly, eyes looking almost alien like and startling Neville with their eerie stare, "I like your hair the way you wear it now. Chic."

Neville blushed. Even if he was beginning to understand Luna and take her comments with a smile, she still managed to knock him off kilter. He fixed his hair, which was nearly as long and shaggy as Harry's. He hadn't cut in months. Hair didn't seem to matter much for a while. Maybe he would cut it soon, though, if it was getting to the point where people pointed it out. He pulled a tight smile and Luna sighed a yawn, turning away.

The game concluded with no score, just a fight between Ginny and Ron about who had won. The group came together for the first time that Friday, circling up in the grass and letting the sun hit them full on.

Luna was sprawled fully in the greenery, back against the ground and hair twirling around clumps of blades. Neville again was overwhelmed by how otherworldly and mystical she looked, like she could almost fade right into the dirt and grass.

"Do you reckon you guys'll go back for seventh year? McGonagall made a big fuss about it at the last Hogwarts rebuild," Ginny asked. Neville thought he might go back as well, even if he was at school all last year. He felt he deserved it, a year for the year that was not really school, not really being a kid. He wondered if Luna would have to make up the time she lost in Malfoy Manor, but he wouldn't mention that to her, ever. That was something no one asked her and Dean about, just like no one asked Hermione about her scars from Bellatrix and George about Fred. Certain things were known to be ignored.

"I won't!" Ron spat, "I think I've learned enough, considering." Hermione bit her lip.

"But what about your exams? How do you expect do have a decent career without NEWT scores?" she asked, obviously already decided that she would be in attendance for the full year. Ron huffed, shaking his head.

"Mione, I fought alongside Harry bleeding Potter in the Battle of Hogwarts. Pretty sure that gives me a pass to any job I want. Besides, don't need an exam to work with George at his shop." Hermione's eyes bulged garishly, and Neville worried it might hurt.

"Oh don't tell me you're still on about that? Ron, really-"

Neville tuned out mostly. These fights repeated often, the same cycle of five or six topics. This was the third time he had heard the one about the joke shop.

"Merlin, you think they'd be sick of it, too, by now," Ginny murmured. She was half laying on Harry, her leg tossed over his thigh. Harry was buried in her shoulder.

"I think the fact that they go at it like rabbits after this one helps keep it a bit fresher," Harry chuckled. Ginny slapped his arm, but she smirked still, and leaned to his touch at the mention of sex. Luna looked over to them, giggling in light bursts, though Neville wasn't certain if she got what Harry was alluding to.

Neville was very aware of the ravenous love making of Ron and Hermione. Ron had gushed to him about over a sleepover at the Burrow a week or so back, gloating that the woman couldn't keep her hands off him. Harry told him to sod off, since they were all fairly certain Hermione would murder him if she heard Ron talk like that, but Harry later confessed when him and Neville were alone that he and Ginny were just as bad, spending most days sneaking under Molly and Arthur's nose to fuck.

It wasn't hard to see. Harry wasn't even hiding that he was sucking on Ginny's neck. Neville went hot watching them press against each other, some combination of an ancient crush on Ginny and a desperate need to get off.

"Gin and I are gonna, ah, uh. We are gonna help Molly in the kitchen," Harry said, barely with his lips off Ginny's skin. They rushed off into the house, adrenaline and hormonal horniness dripping off them. Neville snorted a laugh.

He spared a look to Ron and Hermione. They were fully in their own world, the fight switched onto Hermione's reluctance to take the year off and travel with Ron. They'd probably run off to Ron's bedroom soon. This was about the point. He looked back to Luna.

"And then there were two," Neville chuckled. Luna quirked an eyebrow as she kept picking at grass and hummed a 'hm?'

"Oh, nothing, just, um, I-" Neville mumbled.

"Can I show you something right now?" Luna interjected. Neville furrowed his brow, mouth slipping open as he worked together a response. Luna didn't wait for him to gather himself and yanked his hand until he was up and following her up the high hill behind the house.

"Where are we going?" Neville asked after a minute of walking with his hand clasped in Luna's. The house and Ron and Hermione were starting to grow small behind them.

"My house. It's just a little bit past here," Luna said, focus forward and uninterrupted. Neville stared back at the house once more and Luna paused, "I'm sure they really won't mind. The couples, they're quite preoccupied with each other, anyways. We will be back before supper."

Neville nodded, looking over his shoulder as Luna started tugging him again. Ron and Hermione were making up, with Ron opening his arms and Hermione falling in them. Ron looked up, spotting Neville and Luna and their hands joined, and held up a thumbs up. Most of the group had begun harboring the assumption that Neville was hopelessly in love with Luna, sparked by his confession to Harry and Ginny that he was 'mad for her.' He wasn't. He couldn't deny that Luna was gorgeous, in an offbeat way, and that she had a mystic wonder around her, but love was an extreme exaggeration. He had been out of his mind with anxiety and near death energy when he'd made his confession, and he barely remembered saying it. He certainly couldn't recall if he had told Luna, like he had said he would, but nothing came of it even if he had. He wouldn't mention it to her. No response felt better than a rejection. Neville rolled his eyes at Ron and shrugged him off with a wave of his hand.

Luna's father was there when they got to the house with his quill in hand working on a new article. He shot up when he saw them, moving to kiss Luna's head. He ran his palm against the blonde silk at the top of her scalp, slow and gentle, and muttered something to her. Luna grinned. Xénophilius noticed Neville after a moment and tossed his arms up, suddenly excited. He paced over and shook Neville's hand, telling him he had heard good things and wished Luna would bring friends over more often. Luna promised she would, but that her and Neville really needed to go upstairs.

"Your dad's nice."

"Yes, he's very sweet. Mum always thought so," Luna said as they trailed the stairs. The stairwell was painted with flowers that seemed to bloom as they passed. Luna always had a skill with enchanting pictures and paintings. Neville watched her trail her arm, freckled and pale, over the flowers. Her spindly fingers tapped the wall, and Neville found himself focused in on her pink nail polish. He liked her details, all her colors and spots and intricacies. He kept staring until he had reached her bedroom.

"I don't often have friends over. I think father might have been surprised," Luna mumbled outside her door. Neville felt a pang of familiarity. It was nice to have Friday's, but he still sometimes wished he had someone to fill part of the heavy silence and tortuous boredom that was his life outside of the once a week meetings.

"Why don't you have Ginny over? She's so close," he asked, but he knew. He knew that it was the same as why he sat against the wall for majority of his Friday. Luna shrugged.

"She has Harry and I'd hate to be a bother. They are so awfully smitten, what with all the shagging," Luna explained. Neville smirked.

"Oh, they are really awful, huh? I wonder how they don't work themselves to exhaustion," Neville said, glad to have the excuse to vent, because as much as he understood the need for release at all hours, it was alienating to witness them try to tackle each other in every setting.

"Oh, I'm glad you think so too. Ginny is so dear to me, but, Merlin, they are much too much," Luna said, and Neville felt warm and at home seeing her smile as she spoke to him, "well, let's go in."

She pushed open the door. The room smelled overwhelming like lavender and ylang ylang and the walls were plastered with murals of exotic gardens and maps and Indian looking tapestries. Neville stepped in further, surrounded by the beaming Luna energy of everything. Luna stepped up and placed a hand on Neville's back. Neville pushed back against the touch, a little cautious still, but touch felt so good lately, so necessary.

"This is what I'd like to show you," Luna said, a finger up towards the ceiling. Neville tilted up slightly and stumbled when he saw his own face gleaming at him. It radiated an energy he might have had before the war, but he was sure he hadn't ever been that brave or confident. Everyone else up there looked like their best versions of themselves as well, skin gleaming, smiles wide enough to hurt, and an overall air of carefree Neville struggled to remember existing.

"Wow, Luna, that's . . ." Neville was at a loss, surprised how much it hit him, to see that memory of their group, not exactly how it was-Ron and Harry never payed that much attention to him until recently, Hermione was his acquaintance at best- but how he'd like to picture it before things crumbled.

"I painted it my fifth year over Christmas holiday. Father told me Harry, Ron and Hermione had seen it already, and Ginny passed through one day with Harry, so it was only you who hadn't had a chance. I think I did a splendid job with you, though I do need to fix your hair, I suppose. It's much more wildly rugged now."

Neville went a little red. Rugged was a new word for himself, though he doubted it would get much use outside of conversation with Luna.

"Should add my scar, too, then. If we're updating," Neville muttered. He thought of a full update, with dark bags under Harry's eyes, Ron morose, but hiding it, and Harry and Ginny fucking in the corner. His lip curled down and his nose scrunched at the thought.

"That's quite rugged, too. You should be proud," Luna said. Neville shot her a look. His scar was nothing more that a lasting mark of what he'd been through, inescapable and gross.

"Don't say that, please," he gulped. Luna's eyes tightened at the comment.

"Oh, dear. I didn't mean to upset you, Neville. You should be proud, though. You did so much for so many of us. Our courageous leader, truly," Luna assured. Those words might have seemed mocking from someone else, but Luna seemed to lack the ability to be fake with anyone. She reached her hand up, pink nails pushing Neville's bangs back. Neville felt sweaty and tense at the touch. Molly touching him there had been a mother tending to a wound, Luna felt like an invasion. Yet, he stayed still as Luna trailed one delicate finger down the slight curve of the scar. Neville shivered.

"Thanks, but, ah, um," Neville tugged away, and Luna's arm fell with a pout on her face, "sorry, I just. Don't touch that."

"Alright. Shall we sit then?" Luna said, turning on a dime like nothing had happened. Neville needed a moment to recover, and stood hunched as he watched Luna settle on her bed. He sighed, and sat with his butt half on Luna's violet sheets. He looked at Luna, grinning up at him expectantly with her hair spread like an silvery ocean across her pillow, and sucked in a big breath, found every ounce of his courage, and laid back next to her. He felt like a big lug on her twin mattress, especially next to elfish Luna.

"I-uh," Neville started, but nothing came. He had never been on a girl's bed before, except his Gran's, but that didn't count.

"I don't think Hermione and Ron are very fond of me," Luna said, filling his silence. They were staring up the bright faces of the aforementioned couple above them, Hermione's hair less frizzy than in real life and Ron's smile more even.

"Ah, Luna, no. They just . . . they're hot headed," Neville said, but he knew Luna was right. Luna was only tolerated by them because the rest of the group liked them, and they didn't hide that fact very well. They didn't exactly dislike her, but their lack of tolerance for her and all the abnormality that came with her was clear.

"I don't mind. I'm sure they have their reasons," Luna hummed and Neville felt compelled to act then. He had heard those words echo in himself. He heard them when he had overheard Dean calling a fat dunce fourth year. He watched his weight since then. He heard them when Seamus and Ron had mimicked his laugh and compared him to donkey. He stopped laughing so much after that. He wouldn't let Luna say it, even if she really didn't care, even if she was happy with how things were. He couldn't let Luna give any of her self away.

"No, Luna, no. You don't deserve that. They're damn gits, both of them," Neville sat up, suddenly fiery. Luna scrunched her forehead, and Neville just huffed, "You're amazing, so incredible and unique and fun, and Ron and Hermione, they're my mates and all, but they are idiots not to like you."

Neville's straight posture fell after his declaration and his head tucked back against his chest. He was sure that was way too much to have said, revealed too many feelings, some he hadn't even defined for himself. But, Luna wasn't fazed. She was smiling, soft enough that it barely wrinkled her cheeks, and radiating a feeling of gentle joy and serenity.

"That's very sweet," Luna eased. She leaned over to Neville, and before Neville could scramble to clarify and downplay his statement, she pressed her lips against his.

Neville only wasted half a moment of wide eyed surprise before kissing her back. While there was the underlying shock still that he was on a girl's bed and she was kissing him and it wasn't out of pity, he had a slight suspicion, or maybe, if he was honest with himself, a slight hope, that Luna had invited him back to her house with the intention of something happening.

Neville's last kiss had been months ago, and years since the one before that. Ginny had been his first kiss ever, after the Yule Ball. He had accidentally bit her lip, Ginny's teeth had crashed against his, and they both decided after that they were better as friends. Lavender had come after her, in the middle of their awful seventh year. She had needed a shoulder to cry on about her fear that life would never be the same again, that she would die under Voldemort's regime, and somehow that had transitioned into Neville's tongue in her mouth and her hand rubbing him over his trousers. Neville had planned asking her to go steady if the world ever went back to normal a few days later, but then he found out she had pulled the same act with Seamus the next night and that hope died. Still, her death hit Neville as though he had loved her for years.

Luna touched him better than either of those two. Her touch was like healing, like bandages over scars inside and out. He didn't realize how bad he had been needing touch until she did it. He didn't realize how little anyone touched him, how little he was close to people. Luna felt like she needed that too, desperation in her kiss, and Neville was glad he could help. She tasted like peaches on his lips and when her hair was surrounding him, he felt warmth and comfort.

Luna pulled back after a minute, stepping over him and off the bed to gather some things in a purse. Neville didn't move. He was still processing and working out a way to cover up the tent in his pants.

"That was nice. Thank you, Neville," Luna said. She was pinning her hair back with a rainbow hair clip, and looking effortlessly calm, minus a minor tint of red across her cheeks. Neville, on the other hand, resembled a beet, "Should we be heading back? I'm sure Mrs. Weasley would be rather hurt if weren't there for supper. It's chicken roast."

Neville nodded and gathered himself. He waited until Luna was turned away, and tucked his cock up so his erection wasn't so obvious. The bulge was lessened, but not gone. He puffed and settled himself with that fact. Luna turned back, bright and chipper and totally unchanged. Neville was a little offended.

They trekked back to the Burrow through meadow and hills, silent expect for Luna's brief comments about creatures and fairies she supposedly saw off in the distance. Neville was shaken, but he tried not to let her see that. Women wanting him was not a well known territory.

Ron and Ginny both waggled their eyebrows at Neville when him and Luna returned together. Neville rolled his eyes, but he knew his blush was undeniable.

Supper was delicious, as it always was there. Neville hated to admit it, but Molly was bounds better than his Gran at cooking. Luna was seated across from him, and Neville tried to keep himself from openly staring at her and trying to understand what she meant to do with that kiss. Luna was positively indifferent, as far as he could tell, and he almost wondered if she was embarrassed. He had to remind himself once again that he was nothing to embarrassed over, and besides, Luna wasn't one to look down on him like that.

The night concluded soon after supper, goodbyes beginning once the dishes in the sink. Hermione and Harry stayed, as they did most Fridays, and, well, most nights in general, and Luna was still just a brief walk from her house. Neville was the only one who had to floo.

"Neville?" Luna chirped as Neville approached the fire place.

"Yeah?" Neville said, hopeful despite his best judgment.

"I hope you will come over again soon. It was delightful afternoon," she said. Neville hesitated, floo powder clutched in his fist. There was something about Luna's smile, something tricky and demure under the surface, that made his heart beat fast. He nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, 'course. I'll owl you," he grinned, too wide but he didn't really care.

"Good," Luna said. Neville bounced on his heels, too happy for his own good, and threw his powder against the fire, already trying to find an excuse to come back to Luna's silver saucer eyes.


End file.
